Diana Palmer - After Midnight

“Enough.” She hesitated. “I…met someone.”

“Someone? A man? A real, honest to God man?”

“He looks like one. He’s taking me sailing.”

“Nikki, I’m delighted! Who is he?”

She crossed her fingers on her lap. “Just an ordinary man,” she lied. “He’s into…cars.”

“Oh. A mechanic? Well, there’s nothing wrong with being a mechanic, I guess. Can he sail well enough not to drown you?”

“I think he could do anything he set his mind to,” she murmured dreamily.

“Is this really you?” he teased. “You were off men for life, the last time we spoke.”

“Oh, I am,” she agreed readily. “It’s just that this one is so different.” She added, “I haven’t ever met anyone quite like him.”

“Is he a ladies’ man?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.”

“Nikki,” he began, hesitating. She’d had a rough experience at an early age. She was vulnerable. “Listen, suppose I come up for a few days?”

“No!” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “I mean, there’s no need to do that.”

“You’re worrying me,” he said.

“You can’t protect me from the world, you know. I have to stand on my own two feet sometime.”

“I guess you do,” he said, sounding resigned and not too happy. “Okay, sis. Have it your way. But I’m as close as the telephone if you need me. Will you remember that?”

“You can bet on it.”

“Then I’ll speak to you soon.”

When he hung up, Nikki let out the breath she’d been holding. That was all she needed now, to have Clayton come wandering up to the house and run head-on into his worst enemy. Things were getting complicated and she was certain that she needed to cut off the impossible relationship before it began. But she couldn’t quite manage it. Already, Kane had gotten close to her heart. She hoped that it wouldn’t break completely in the end.

She wondered how Kane was going to keep her in the dark about his wealth. If he took her sailing in a yacht, even a moron would notice that it meant he had money.

The next day he solved the problem adroitly by mentioning that he couldn’t rent the sailboat he’d planned to take her out in, so they were going riding in a motorboat instead. It was a very nice motorboat, but nothing like the yacht he usually took onto the ocean.

Nikki smiled to herself and accepted the change of conveyance without noticeable effect.

“I know I said I’d take you out on a sailboat,” he explained as he helped her into the boat, “but they’re not very safe in high winds. It’s pretty windy today.”

It was, but she hardly thought a yacht would be very much affected. On the other hand, it wouldn’t do for her “ordinary” houseguest to turn up in a million-dollar-plus sailing ship, and he must have realized that.

“Oh, I like motorboats,” she said honestly, her eyes lighting up with excitement as Kane eased into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The motor started right up and ran like a purring cat.

He glanced at her with a wry smile. “Are you a good sailor?”

“I guess we’ll find out together,” she returned.

He chuckled and pulled away from the pier.

The boat had a smooth glide on the water’s surface, and the engine wasn’t overly loud. Nikki put up a hand to her windblown hair, laughing as the faint spray of water teased her nose.

“Aren’t you ever gloomy?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, why bother being pessimistic?” she replied. “Life is so short. It’s a crime to waste it, when every day is like Christmas, bringing something new.”

She loved life. He’d forgotten how. His dark eyes turned toward the distant horizon and he tried not to think about how short life really was, or how tragically he’d learned the lesson.

“Where are we going?” Nikki asked.

“No place in particular,” he said. He glanced at her with faint amusement. “Unless,” he added, “you like to fish.”

“I don’t mind it. But you hate it!” she laughed.

“Of course I do. But I have to keep my hand in,” he added. “So that I don’t disgrace the rest of my family. The gear and tackle are under that tarp. I thought we’d ease up the river a bit and settle in a likely spot. I brought an ice chest and lunch.”

“You really are full of surprises,” she commented.

His dark eyes twinkled. “You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, turning his concentration back to navigation.

He found a leafy glade and tied the boat up next to shore. He and Nikki sat lazily on the bank and watched their corks rise and fall and occasionally bob. They ate cold cut sandwiches and potato chips and sipped soft drinks, and Nikki marveled at the tycoon who was a great fishing companion. Not since her childhood, when she’d gone fishing with her late grandfather, had she enjoyed anything so much. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to sit on the river with a fishing pole.

“Do you do this often?” she wanted to know.

“With my brothers and my father. Not ever with a woman.” His broad shoulders lifted and fell. “Most of them that I know don’t care for worms and hooks,” he mused. “You’re not squeamish, are you?”

“Not really. About some things, maybe,” she added quietly. “But unless you’re shooting the fish in a barrel, they have a sporting chance. And I do love fried bass!”

“Can you clean a fish?”

“You bet!”

He chuckled with delight. “In that case, if we catch anything, I’m inviting myself to supper.” His eyes narrowed. “If you have no other plans.”

“Not for two weeks, I haven’t,” she said.

He seemed to relax. His powerful legs stretched out in front of him and he tugged on the fishing pole to test the hook. “Nothing’s striking at my bait,” he grumbled. “I haven’t had a bite yet. We’ll give it ten more minutes and then we’re moving to a better spot.”

“The minute we move, a hundred big fish will feel safe to vacation here,” she pointed out.

“You’re probably right. Some days aren’t good ones to fish.”

“That depends on what you’re fishing for,” she said, concentrating on the sudden bob of her cork. “Watch this…!”

She pulled suddenly on the pole, snaring something at the end of the line, and scrambled to her feet. Whatever she’d hooked was giving her a run for her money. She pulled and released, pulled and released, worked the pole, moved up the bank, muttered and clicked her tongue until finally her prey began to tire. She watched Kane watching her and laughed at his dismal expression.

“You’re hoping I’ll drop him, aren’t you?” she challenged. “Well, I won’t. Supper, here you come!”

She gave a hard jerk on the line and the fish, a large bass, flipped up onto the bank. While Kane dealt with it, she baited her hook again. “I’ve got mine,” she told him. “I don’t know what you’ll eat, of course.”

He sat down beside her and picked up his own pole. “We’ll just see about that,” he returned.

Two hours later, they had three large bass. Nikki had caught two of them. Kane lifted the garbage and then the cooler with the fish into the boat. Nikki forgave herself for feeling vaguely superior, just for a few minutes.

Kane had forgotten his tragedies, his business dealings, his worries in the carefree morning he was sharing with Nikki. Her company had liberated his one-track mind from the rigors that plagued men of his echelon. He was used to being by himself, to letting business occupy every waking hour. Since the death of his family, he’d substituted making money for everything else. Food tasted like cardboard to him. Sleep was infrequent and an irritating necessity. He hadn’t taken a vacation or even a day off since the trip he’d taken with his wife and son that had ended so tragically.